


Runaway Chapter 1

by adayinthelife_00 (redbeatleboots)



Series: Runaway [1]
Category: The Beatles, mcharrison
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 06:24:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9644273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redbeatleboots/pseuds/adayinthelife_00
Summary: Paul has to help his boyfriend George.This is my third fanfiction and thus not the highest quality.Credit to @donutmesswithme on Tumblr for helping me when I was stuck!





	1. Hide

Paul McCartney was only sixteen, and his boyfriend George Harrison was only eight months and a week younger at fifteen. Paul wasn’t sure about his friend though. George had been acting quite defensive, moody and had been rushing home. Paul didn’t go to his house often, it was either his place or somewhere out and about. This time Paul had had enough, and decided to follow him home. Paul tried to follow as silently as he could, down to 89 Guild Street where George lived. George’s family would rarely lock the door, so he knew he could get in. Paul wondered how the house had changed in the eight years since he’d been there. It had been a long time, and he didn’t know why he hadn’t been allowed to go there for such a long time. Paul shrugged, and maybe it would be alright. He had a pocket knife with him anyway. He walked up to the door, checked around and walked in.

‘George?’ You in here?’ he called out, knowing that there wouldn’t be anyone else in the house, no car outside or anything like that.

‘Paul!! What are you doing here?’ George called from the top of the stairs. The house was in a poor street and was very small. Paul was sure that quite a few houses along the street were abandoned and the neighbours drank away their little earnings. There was a kitchen only big enough to fit a smallish fridge/freezer, a few cupboards around the walls and beside the window and a table set for six, a living room the size of a king bed doubled. The hallway was generously wide, like the original hallway was kept and the rest of the house was shaped to fit more on the street. Paul ran upstairs after he shed his coat, and came upstairs. George hugged him, but it was cut short after a small girl’s voice called out.

‘Georgie, who’s that?’

‘Wh- who’s that?’ Paul asked, confused, but not as angry as George would have expected.

‘Err… I’d better introduce you two. Paul, this is my half-sister Bonnie. Bonnie, this is Paul, my friend.’ George said, firstly friendly and to Bonnie, he was talking the way to talk to a child.

‘Hello there Bonnie! How old are you?’ Paul asked with a smile on his face.

‘I’m eleven.’

‘You don’t look it.’

‘I am!’ Bonnie exclaimed in the way an eleven-year-old would to a question like that. Paul stood straight again. He noticed there were only three doors on the floor like there always used to. One, the one nearest to them, was the bathroom. The one next up was George’s bedroom and the one across was his parents'. At least, his father’s, as his mother had died five years before. George ushered me into his room, which had changed drastically since Paul had last been in there. The walls, once blue, were stormcloud grey and marbled like it too, and seemed smaller and darker with a little window, white curtains. There were white, IKEA like beds, with bookshelves above the beds, crammed in with a few small trinkets. Bonnie had a few threadbare toys on the bottom shelf, and books an eleven-year-old would read. The bedspreads were white, and two beautiful quilts on top, which one Paul knew was made by his mother. There was a wardrobe with both of their clothes inside. There was only a chest of drawers that must have been split in some way between them. George looked tired in the artificial light, and Paul was sad for him.

‘What’s happened?’ Paul asked. George sighed, and Bonnie curled up under her covers.

‘You don’t know why you haven’t been around, and it’s because of Dad. He’s been violent, drunk, drunker than the worst along this drunken street, and he’s been hitting Bonnie.’ George said, passionately. ‘I think he even killed Mother. It’s not right, he’s abusive, he’s been fired from work and he’s threatened us with death if we speak out about it. I’m scared, Paulie.’ George sobbed, which was rare for him, usually steely and stone. Paul cuddled his sobbing boyfriend, and hoped Bonnie was asleep, which she was. ‘I just want to disappear. It’s not right.’ George sobbed into Paul’s shirt. Paul was completely unsure of what to do, and sat for ten seconds with George’s face in his shirt and a slightly confused look on his face, until he decided to put his arms around him and cuddle him. Paul genuinely didn’t know what to do. He pushed George into a sitting position and consoled him, thinking about how George’s father must have hurt them, why he hadn’t been allowed to come around again, what must have happened that night. Paul himself knew what it was like to lose his mother, as his own had died not too long ago from cancer.

‘I just can’t do it! I come home to be hit, or I see Bonnie hit, and I want to run away, but I can’t because Dad will find me and I don’t know what he’ll do to me or Bonnie!’ George nearly wailed.

‘I think my dad won’t mind you staying weekends, and we can pretend it is only weekends.’ Paul suggested.

‘You mean… you mean to say we can stay at your place?’ George sobbed, wiping his eyes.

‘Yeah, well, we have a spare room with two beds, and Dad won’t know about it, work means he’s away most of the time. It can work and I think I’ll make sure it will.’ Paul said with some strength, though it was meant to give George some hope. George was still cleaning himself up, puffy, red--rimmed eyes still streaming a bit. ‘Do you have suitcases? If you don’t I can go home and grab some.’

‘Yeah, yeah we have them. Let me get them.’ George got up and left the room, coming back with two old, battered leather suitcases that had to be forty years old at least, and opened them up releasing a musty smell into the room. George went over to the wardrobe and pulled out all of his few clothes, jeans and school clothes and a dress shirt. He folded them up scruffily into the small suitcase, and threw underclothes in too from the top left drawer. There was still enough room to fit books inside and George’s case was packed. He went over to where Bonnie was curled up, and nudged her. ‘Hey, Bonnie, come on, you need to wake up.’ he whispered loudly. Bonnie rolled over towards him, and muttered something. ‘Come on, we need to go.’

‘But…’

‘It’s gonna be alright, we’re gonna be safe.’ George comforted the awakening girl. ‘You need to get your things ready. You know where your things are, and I trust you can pack for yourself.’

Bonnie lifted herself out of bed, and lugged the suitcase on top. She deftly put her little amount of clothing into the suitcase, and had to climb onto the bed to reach her books, and she held tight onto her backpack and toy dog. She looked very sick in the watery sunlight pouring through the crack in the curtains. George beckoned her to come out to the door, hurriedly checking his watch because their father would come home soon, and hopefully they wouldn’t get caught. Paul snuck down behind them, and he was scared. Scared for the future, scared what his father would do if he found out about this, scared about what other things had happened behind closed doors. The floorboards creaked loudly, and they all made it to the door. Paul and George breathed a sigh of relief, but Bonnie was confused and scared, looking around nervously. Paul walked them to his home, at 58 Academy Street. Paul checked around first in case he had a mystery visitor, but he did not. He lead them up to the small spare room, which was painted a cool blue the colour of the shallow sea, and the curtains were a bright blue the colour associated with technology and such. Two beds with a blanket each, which George put the quilts from their bed onto.

-To Be Continued-


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 is up: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9658331


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